Coffee Shop Chronicles
by D0llieDaydream
Summary: Tweek watches because he thinks one day he might have the courage to offer help. Creekish moments, other pairings here and there.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is just something a little different that I wanted to do. It's nothing of particular importance to me so there's no real plan here and I guess it's just a series of snapshots and such. If I stop writing and decide it's finished without anything in particular happening, don't be surprised._

_I don't know what to say pairing wise. This has got Stendy in it in that they're together and that, but yea. More on that later._

_

* * *

  
_

Observation. The art of watching, scrutinising, investigating. What's happening in your environment? Tweek knows what's happening in his. He has to. Because anything and everything around him is just waiting to go wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong. So he has to be on his toes.

But on the other note - a more practical note - it was sort of a requirement of his job that he take note of his surroundings. After all, he was supposed to provide a good service, because if he did then people would come back, but if he didn't then they'd go somewhere else, they'd lose business, they'd go bankrupt, they'd starve and lose their house. It went something like that.

Tweek paused, breaking his routine. He had been repeatedly making coffee for almost an hour. And if it wasn't something somebody ordered, he could keep it for himself. But he stopped. He stopped to take a look. To survey the area. To make sure there was nothing lurking, just ready to...

His eyes settled. Settled on Stan Marsh. An unremarkable boy from an unremarkable town. Or so he liked to think. Tweek had already noted three girls who were - discreetly or otherwise - checking the dark haired boy out. And he sat, oblivious. Firmly stuck in his world where he was just the friendly neighbourhood nice guy. Average grades, decent sportsman, a little taller than most, but certainly nothing to brag about. The kind of guy that you could take home to mom and dad safe in the knowledge that there would be no controversy. They might even like him.

Tweek wasn't sure if Stan's underestimation of himself was some kind of clever act or if he was just another one of the many kids who shared this mindset. Kids who set themselves easy goals. Kids who had a middle of the road lifeplan. Kids with no ambition. But if you aim so high and fail, doesn't that just set you up for disappointment? Tweek wasn't sure what side of the fence he sat on, but one made far more sense in his mind than the other.

A chair was pulled up beside Stan. Wendy Testaburger was not average, and she did not think herself to be so, in any shape or form. She was intelligent, she was pretty enough and she had plans. Big plans. Plans that did not involve playing it safe and hoping for the best. She was motivated enough to take her life into her own hands. After all, the only other alternative around here appeared to be waiting around until you got knocked up. Such a fate would be a waste of her talents. Tweek knew this. Wendy knew this. Stan knew this. And sometimes during discussions about their future - or more, Wendy's future, where Stan just tagged along - Stan looked a little bit nervous. A little bit scared. Tweek didn't blame him.

Tweek watched their body language. Wendy - strong, confident and leading. Stan was just full of timid shrugs and non-committal nods. The type of stuff that his own friends would pick up on and push in his face as evidence that the boy was whipped.

But if Stan was only average, and Wendy was above his level, maybe he was just eager to please her. Desperate not to rock the boat. Because what if he never found someone this good who would settle for average?

Tweek blinked a couple of times, realising that Stan's eyes had caught his own. He jumped and quickly turned his back to the dark haired boy. Sometimes he felt like scrawling little notes on napkins. Just a little message to let people know that they were wrong, and things would be okay. Because he was supposed to make the customers happy.

He heard his name. He turned around. Craig stood, offering the blonde boy a jacket. His shift was over and Tweek had promised to spend the evening with him. His fingers traced a pile of napkins nervously before he took the jacket and left.

Anyways I shall brb as we need to go buy medication and milkshakes 33


	2. Ink Stained

Tweek falls asleep with his fingers tangled in Craig's hair. He can smell Craig on everything. A distinct scent that lingers on his flesh and the bedsheets and the pillowcases.

When he sleeps he dreams of ink-stained fingers. Everybody has ink-stained fingers. Everybody is smiling.

He can smell coffee. He wakes up to a mug of coffee being placed carefully on the desk beside him. He wakes up to kisses in his hair and on his eyelids. Bleary-eyed he recalls the dream.

_Everyone has ink-stained fingers. Everybody is smiling._

* * *

_A/N: Small drabble type things? I'll be putting these in at random where I feel like it. Badman._


End file.
